My kids love to climb — trees, fences, the hood of my car, any place that isn’t the ground. The other day my wife was inspecting the roof for ice damage. It took two seconds for our four and six year old to start scaling the ladder resting against the house. I was able to talk them back down in exchange for a chance to sit on top of the shed.
Josiah was the first one up. I brushed off some leaves and pine needles and we sat looking beyond the fences that normally block his vision. He let out a noise that sounded like joy. Then he asked if we could build seven tiny houses on top of the shed roof so the whole family could stay up there. I suggested maybe we pitch the tent on the roof.
A couple of Jesus’ friends had the same experience. They followed him up a mountain and some kind of screen was removed. They saw the light of the world in a greater magnitude then before. And Peter didn’t want to leave. He offered to build shelters.
We long for the high places. Up where the smell of pine trees is stronger and light is brighter. Up where it feels easier to see God and know his nearness. We long for it because we were made for it. That is our home.
So why do we have to leave the mountain and climb off the roof? There is a story still playing out down here that we are also made for. The valley needs light too.